Not Perfect
by SiiAh
Summary: I, Raven Roth, say my life is not perfect as in, not even close. But according to everyone else, my life is beyond ‘perfect’. Abusive father, cursed powers, runaway from the law, and on an adventure no one will forget. Who says my life is perfect? bbxrae


ok, hope you like, just a story i really wanted to do...nothing much to say but, my other stories sux. hope this one will turn out good. i think i got better so tell me what you think...thx...

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I always wanted to know… Can someone say his or her life is perfect? That they have everything they ever wanted, with absolutely no flaws in their life? That everything was just…perfect?

Well I, Raven Roth, say my life is **not** **perfect** as in, not even close. But according to everyone else, my life is beyond '_perfect'._

I know I am the mayor's daughter. I know I am filthy rich. And I know I have people under my control. Only… but of course one…

_My father…_

He is the one. That made my life… horrible. Yet, he _made _m_e_ rich. And _gave _me power. And _granted _me almost everything I ever wanted.

How could a father this nice make your life horrible, you ask?

_BAM!_

My father, _hurts_ me…

-

I tried not to cry. It was my weakness, and his strength. So I tried not to, because,

Raven was strong…

I was strong.

But whining and whimpering isn't crying, is it? Not crying… But, I could feel tears prickle like knives down my face.

Now, Raven Roth was crying.

Gaining my strength, and hoping my fuel would run on adrenaline, I tried to crawl over behind the couch to be safe, from _him…_

I griped each of my fingers on the rug, pulling my petite body over to where I call, '30-second freedom' from _him…_

Then the worse came, misfortune for my limp body. He grabbed my ankle, pulling me into where I call, _hell._ He twisted my ears viciously, and then snatched my violet hair dragging me to the basement, where my troubles doubled.

I screamed in agony as he pushed me down the hard cold stairs that had the sent of dried up blood. Oh, how much I hated the metallic smell creeping up my nose like spiders finding their way up. Falling down the stairs was one thing; I practically memorized every fall I had on these stairs, which was close to being the same each time. Like a movie in rewind, I remembered every pain, every fall doing itself all over again. But once I got to the bottom, it was new beating each time.

The blood, which I cursed right away, trickled freely down my head, mixing in with the new shed of tears that stabbed my skin like nails scraping it off pleasingly. Still cursing at myself, I didn't even notice I landed on my side, the side facing _my father_.

He walked slowly down the stairs, hand in hand behind his back, like a gentleman of some sort. I cursed him in my mind, before sobbing once I felt pain overwhelm me. He kicked me, right in the stomach. Now I could have swore I coughed out something, metallic. Oh, of course. Blood.

My mind once again, like everyday, told me I was going to die, which never happened. Because I knew, I was strong.

He slammed my motionless body against the wall, no need to struggle, I am already in defeat. I learned that a while ago, when I broke two more bones from struggling. All I could do was… cry.

Now if I remembered correctly after all those beatings in the past, this was the time my body would go numb, and I would let darkness consume me as I landed on the floor. The last sight before that would forever always would be my father.

And there it was, my numb body was already on the floor, with my dad watching over me until my body gave up and I shut my eyes. I knew I was at least done for the night. Done with the crying, done with pain. Sleeping calmed my beating heart, it slowed everything around me. Even the sound.

_Sleep…_was the best thing now. Was the best word to calm my soul. Even though my breathing was still ragged, it would soon be quiet and peaceful.

When I slept…

Everything for me was…_perfect…_

-

My eyes fluttered open, from the first ray of light. Figuring maybe I fell out of bed, because this hard cold floor was not my bed, I decided to get up then crawl back to bed for more sleep.

After a few seconds of 'trying' to get up, I realized that my body was weak, maybe I was- oh now I remember. I was in the dark basement, which I sometimes woke up in after a night of pain.

Then where was that light-

Someone or something gently held my wrist. Then the 'thing' pulled me up rather softly, the only word I could describe. It was _gentle_ and _kind_ which I wasn't used to.

Standing up on my feet, and using the 'thing' for support, I blinked, getting the blur out of my eyes. And the 'thing' was no other than, Richard Grayson.

"Ohhh…" I groaned after a overpowering pain surged through my body from standing up.

Richard facilitated me stay up with his right hand, holding a flashlight in the other. "Found you." He said rather mockingly trying to brighten up the dreaded atmosphere.

"Shut up…" I croaked back, I was meaning to snap, but alas, how could you snap at someone when you just woke up beaten and battered like a cake.

He chuckled, and then put his arm around me to help me walk out of this dungeon. "You sure are cranky."

"How would you feel like waking up, seeing that hideous face of yours every morning, then having them to help you up like you're an old lady?" I snapped, getting my voice back slowly. He chuckled again taking it as a joke and lead me up the stairs, which I had a hard time to follow with my scraped and bruised legs.

"You just love insulting me don't you?"

Meet Richard Grayson. My best friend, well my only friend, my only true friend that is.

"Wouldn't put it in any other way…"

He is just as rich as my dad, and his foster dad is partners with my dad in the political business. His foster dad is known as, Slade Wilson. The all-time millionaire as people say. Well, enough about his 'stupid' (as I saw, since I put him on my 'hate people' list the first time I saw him, not a real nice guy…) foster dad let's talk about Richard.

When he was young, both his parents died, and Slade found him and took care of him. Slade taught him how to be strong, and taught him some other stuff too, which I'm not so sure about. Well, soon later, Slade became richer with his 'cool' inventions, and became partners with my dad, doing who knows what with those inventions.

Anyways, he lives right across the street from our mansion, and every morning he would go check up on me, making sure I'm alright. He is the only person I told about this…issue with my father and me, and I know he keeps my secrets as I keep his. Like one of his secrets that I know of, is that under the pair of sunglasses he always wears, he has one blue eye and one green eye. I don't care much as how he looks, but other people do, so he keeps it a secret.

A lot of girls fancy him, like fainting over his 'hotness' and 'sexiness' face and body. Who couldn't love him? His jet-black hair, he always spikes up, his gorgeous smile he gives to you, his broad muscles…well I just look right through him, I am his friend and all, but I am just not…interested at all. (BBxRae story!)

Trying to keep my balance, I held onto him for more support. Just a few more steps…

"So how bad?"

"8." I stated like it wasn't a big deal, but it really was, for I love to cover up what I really feel. And he knows that very well.

He whistled, he wasn't new to this, but it was rare to have it THAT high (A/N like how bad was the beating). He looked over to me and smiled reassuringly, telling me it's going to be ok like he always did.

Once we were at the last step, he opened the squeaky door that lead into the grand hallway with velvet drapes, and black carpeting. Pictures that were filled of gloomy and livid colors hung gracefully on the dark red walls, sending an eerie feeling down your spine. And an addition to the eerie feeling, dark sculptures and statues, rested on the ground or on a dark wooden table leaned against the walls. Nothing more could make this hall more eerie as it was besides cobwebs.

I was used to this 'shivering down your spine' feeling or that creepy feeling you get in your guts when you see this hallway or anywhere else in the mansion, everywhere was that creepy feeling. Mostly my father.

"Rae you definitely need to wash up, school's almost starting!"

I wasn't a fool, telling by the sun rising from the window, school probley was already starting. "Rich just go, I'm going to stay here, my dad's at work, and really who cares if I go or not." I practically droned from the tiresome of standing up so long, and the aching that still lurked in my body.

"You know very well who does." He said seriously, knowing by that voice it meant 'you better get your butt to school or your dad is going to give you your meaning of hell or worse.' He folded his arms, waiting for an answer.

"I'll tell him if he finds out, I don't care anymore what he does to me, you know he does it every night, and tonight wont change. So just go Rich…"

Right about when he was going to object, I put my fingers to his mouth, and gave him one of my famous death glares. He shrugged, knowing where this would end up if he continued, back to school alone and late. He could never win any of his arguments; he knew I was ignorant and cranky in the morning. So there's no point in wasting time.

He nodded and sighed, "Ok fine, but don't be crying to me when he kills you…"

I wrinkled my nose and narrowed my eyes at him, I hated it when he insulted me like that, "Go Now." I pointed down the right side of the hallway where it led to the door to leave.

I liked Richard and all as a friend, but he just got annoying.

I watched him walk down the hallway and turn on the right corridor, which would lead him into the kitchen then the back door to leave. I sighed breathlessly and tried to hold myself up. "I need a bath…" I said softly before limping down the left side of the hallway.

-

"….23…24…25,26…."

26 ouchies, ouch. Usually I got 16 or 20, but 26? After counting all the sore spots on my body, I snuggled in the warm water, rinsing my purple hair off. Yes purple hair. And no I didn't dye it. It's natural, don't know why, don't care at all, I love it. But I guess other people don't, I just tell them I died it or cover it up with the hood of my sweatshirt, like I usually do.

The other weird thing about me, is that I have violet eyes. Like a purple puddle, deep of mystery and forbidden emotion. I personally like it, but even now today, it confuses me why I have these odd colored eyes. Oh well….

I also have pale skin, yes I'm not attractive with pale skin. Even though it's white as the moon, I accept that I am unattractive. Anyways I don't like guys bowing to me all the time, it's… irritating…

But I also have a secret.

Not sure how to put it but, I guess you could call me…

A witch.

You see long ago, when I was 7, my mother, Angela, protected me from my father. She always got hurt, and I had to see her get tortured. She was an attractive young lady, with silk black hair, and with deep indigo eyes, which were darker then mine; almost black. But the weird thing was, that everyday, when she got bruises, cuts, marks, and broken bones, the next day…it was all gone.

At first I thought it was make up, being the very logical me. But then, it got…weirder. How could you put make up on a broken bone? My father practically threw her across the room one awful day, and I swore I heard a snap. She was lying there, motionless, while my father gave a snicker and left the room, not forgetting to glare at me right before. I cried and begged my mother to wake up, but she never did until the next day, when I was already up lying next to her. She forced herself up, looked at me, (making sure I was sleeping, but no, I was pretending…) then stumbled across the room, while I pretended to sleep, waiting for an attempt to follow sneakily. I knew I should've helped, but I wanted to know how she ended up having a flawless face and body the next time I saw her.

She held her body against the wall, limping and whimpering at her dislocated shoulder and knee when she stumbled on her feet wrong, or used the wrong arm for help. I followed her quietly, with a tear stained face and tangled hair, and my bottom lip shaking a bit as well as my legs and arms. My mother led me into her library, full of books and old, dark antiques.

She staggered her way to the corner of the library, panting and sweating as she drew nearer. My breathing overlapped watching her hesitantly, then made my way next to a couch, crouching down so she couldn't see me. She took out a book under a broken shelf forcefully using her arms, I could tell. By the way her muscles stiffened, and tensed she brought the large book onto her lap breathlessly.

She sobbed a bit before flipping through the tanned, old pages of the book. Once she got to the place she wanted, she started mumbling a few words I couldn't understand. She brought her head up, blankly looking at the wall, she said them louder.

"…Zinthos!"

I flinched, rubbed my eyes, leaned closer, eyes bulged out, and my mouth agape at what I saw.

She was healing herself…with… a white light? With a gentle touch on her shoulder, the bright light caressed her skin, relieving all the pain away. She slid her hand to her face, while the light brushing the bruises off.

After that, she closed the book, put it back, (walked clumsily at first), and then walked without a struggle. I couldn't believe it! She--was? What?

A witch?

An Angel?

Demon?

Whatever she was, it was too much for my taste.

I ran over to the corner she was just at (once she was out of the room), and skimmed through the shelf she got the book from. Once I found it, I pulled it out, my eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

'Book of Azarath.' Hmmm…

Opening it with uncertainty, I found myself on the page 290th.

_Levitation with the hands_

_Focus on the object; find your center, and breath. Say your mantra, and imagine it move. Repeat with bold and strong lexis(A/N not sure if that's right…). _

I didn't even get to the part where it tells about levitation with mind. I dropped the book and backed away on my knees. I was…well, freaking out.

Oh and after that day, I learned my first 'spell'. Levitation (moving objects), (A/N not sure if that's right either). Then it came to the part, where I could levitate myself. Later that year, I learned a lot…

Telekinesis (with a black aura, though), healing, mind reading (a little), give message's telepathically, mold into the wall or the floor (learning, having trouble), teleport (learning; could do it once, trying to do it again), and I can meditate. Cool huh?

But it is also a curse. When I'm too emotional, things break. Like blows up, melts, cracks, smashes…ya, so I'm mostly monotonous and unemotional. Meditation helps, a lot. So I do that often.

No one knows about this 'witch' thing, but me. My mother found out, and she didn't really care, but was surprised that I had powers too. That was right before she died too. And she did, right in front of my eyes.

Guess what happened? Guess who did it? Who do you think did it? Of course, my lunatic father, that's who…He was having a 'stressful day' and my mother was the one who talked back to his nasty comments on herself and me. Not a good idea. After he was done with her, her heart had been stabbed. He said to the police he found her there, saying she committed suicide. Damn asshole (sorry had to say, no more swears…well I didn't promise did I?).

I missed her so much after that day, and his beatings were all on me after. I hate my father. I loathe him completely.

Sometimes I just wish I could use my powers on him, to give a taste of his own medicine, but I cant, and I wont. Just best if I could keep it a secret. He would call me a freak, and he would kick me out, telling everyone I was a witch. Then I would die from an angry mob formed by my father. Oh I would not die like that. And anyways, if my mother kept it a secret, so would I.

I shifted my position, getting stiff from the comfort zone I was in, laying in the middle of the tub. I cuddled effortlessly in the corner of the tub, pulling my legs up to my chest. Maybe I could heal now…

I took in a breath and let it out, focusing on a bruise on my knee.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…" I mumbled softly under my breath. The same light took over, just like my mother's, caressing my skin with its free will. I swept my hand over to some other sore spots and continued to heal.

With a content sigh, I stopped, noticing most of the marks I had were gone.

I leaned my head back, relaxing as everything around me felt surreal. My vision slightly blurred, seeing double images as my focus lost itself. The velvet, plum curtains covering the window faded, the white marble sink drifted away, the quiet black walls fell apart, the water swayed back and forth until it soon broke apart. Darkness swept my vision, as I willingly fell in.

'I hate my life…'

The last thought before going into peaceful slumber.

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so what did you think? review if you liked it or not. flame if you wish. i really dont give a damn. but plz dont flame the pairing or somthing. trust me, i know where you live, and i am right now in a pissy mood, so dont get you ass up. ok sorry, being mean. ok plz reveiw, kinda begging now! at least 13 to let me know this is a good one to continue with...(love odds!) Vi


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